


The Age of Jianyu

by orphan_account



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/F, Gen, Korra Alternate Ending, heavily AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-02 20:45:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2825588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fire. Air. Water. Earth. Everything is in ruins. Kuvira has won. And out of the ashes, a new Avatar is born.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Co-authored by Pat (tophtastic on tumblr) and Lou (i-roh on tumblr), two nerds who wish they had Kuvira's class.
> 
> Special thanks to kuvirsass on tumblr for graciously letting us use her au idea as a prompt.
> 
> Heavily, heavily au. Set post- Korra finale, so a mild spoiler warning seems appropriate.
> 
> All original A:TLA / A:LOK characters belong to Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante Dimartino / Nickelodeon.
> 
> Updates once a week (weather permitting). Also available on ff.net.

There was nothing left but smoke, rubble and dust.

Everything that once was the great Republic City, was now in ruins. 

It didn’t feel the way she’d expected it to. There was victory, yes, but also the bittersweet tang of regret staining the back of her throat. “Any survivors?”

“No sign of anyone alive, Kuvira, ma’am. Scout teams searched a three block radius. No-one left.”

It hurt, damn it, it hurt. _I didn’t want it like this, Korra, Su… Bataar. I didn’t want this at all._

"Get me President Raiko on the radio. Now.”

Her officer saluted and ran off through the chunks of concrete scattered across the crater like a child’s playthings. She straightened her back. The Great Uniter was in control, at last. The Earth Empire was hers.

_Finally._


	2. Dreams and Beginnings

The fire lily petals scattered like sand in the breeze. Red flowers shifted, dunes and dunes of them, ethereal as though he saw them through rippled glass. He felt weightless, brimming with light. Petals caught in his hair as he walked through the flowers, the hills rolling on and on endlessly. He knew this place, as if the lilies were made of the same crimson as his blood. A familiar hand rested on his shoulder, and he looked up to see the same smiling, golden eyes he saw every time.

“Would you like another story, Jianyu?”

He smiled, “Yes please, Uncle Mushi.”

The old man sat down slowly amongst the swaying flowers, green robes floating down around him, legs folded into a loose lotus position. His eyes crinkled in a kindly way as Jianyu knelt eagerly in front of him, waiting. “In a city a long, long way from here, in a time before you were born…”

* * *

 “Mmphhmm-huh?”

 “You overslept.” The little Earth Empire boy sat up in his bed, shoulders hunched over ever so slightly. His thick eyebrows scrunched in disgruntlement as the light through his window blinded him for a few brief moments. Eyes full of sleep, he took a moment to re-orient himself; bed, shoes, window, Mom. She loomed over him, a dark green and tan blob that passed him his glasses and suddenly came into sharp focus. Her mercurial eyes, smooth as glass and heavy with the creases of age and something he couldn’t quite place, stared down at him. She never seemed pleased when she had to wake him up.

“Sorry, mom. I was having such a strange dream.” 

“You always do have the most stupid dreams.” She swept away, ever the model of efficiency as she got out his things for the day, “You have training in an hour, hurry and get your breakfast.”

He pushed himself up, still half asleep as he pulled on the tunic she’d laid out for him, fingers fumbling with the laces on his boots. He still felt some of the lightness in his chest he’d had in the dream, but it quickly slipped away like sand through his fingers, leaving a heavy kind of ache knotting in his gut. Or maybe he was just hungry. Guanyin was still curled up at the end of his bed, his nose snuffling in his sleep. At four years old, the young badgermole already took up a quarter of the space in his bedroom. He gave him a quick pat before he scrambled out to the kitchen, climbing up onto the chair where Mom had put his breakfast out on the table for him.

Chewing slowly on his noodles, he watched out of the dining room window as the staff of the complex hurried around the courtyard. His mom was whirling metal around the kitchen to chop up this and boil that, describing the bending forms she expected him to learn by the end of the day. He nodded absently. Out past the sun-dappled grass of the courtyard, he could see the broad, blue ceiling of the sky. It looked just like his dreams, open and unending.

“Jianyu! Stop daydreaming!” 

He snapped back to what he was doing, noticing the noodle that had dangled out of his gaping mouth and landed on his collar. He quickly picked it off, finishing the bowl and moving to carry it up to the sink to wash up, “Mom, do you know anyone called Mushi?”

She sighed impatiently, packing them both a bento for lunch, “No, Jianyu, I don’t. I don’t know where you come up with these odd questions, either.” She wiped off the sauce stain on his collar and pressed the lunch bag into his hand, “Get to training, quickly. Go.”

An eager nod, and he dashed out the front door, dark hair still wild from his pillow.

Kuvira watched him go and shook her head fondly, moving to check her hair in the bathroom mirror and pinning it up behind her head, without a single loose strand. Her metal boots clicked on the floor as she left the house, the door shutting solidly behind her.

Alone in the quiet house, Guanyin uncurled slowly.

* * *

 _The thing about fighting Jiji_ , Qí thought grumpily,  _is that sometimes it’s like trying to dodge the wind in a hurricane._

The bespectacled pipsqueak in question was whirling around to face her, ringed by a shimmering cloud of miniscule (but very sharp) shards of metal, shifting his stance to attack-

_Oh no you don’t._

A foot to the ground was all it took, and a tiny pillar of earth tripped him up, sending him careening backwards into the dust. Qí smirked and moved over, being careful not to stand on the semicircle of needles speared into the ground around him as she helped him up, “You okay?” 

He brushed his sparring gear off with a huff, straightening his glasses, “I’m fine.”

She chuckled and moved back over to her side of the ring, “Then you’re good for another round. Remember to watch your feet.” Jiji waved a hand, and the needles floated back into the air around him, the sun glinting off them and surrounding him with tiny spots of light. She never really understood why he was so intent on getting this needle technique down. “Ready?”

A determined nod. “Ready.”

 _Wait. Listen_. The lean tutor stood her ground, watching the metal wasps whirl around her opponent. He was always so hot-headed, going for the more complicated moves first when the most simple action, well-placed, could have defeated his opponent in half the time.  _He fights like an airbender. Always looking for the tricky solution._

Metal flew.

The sharp  _zing_  of metal strips from Qí’s uniform sang through the air as they darted past his head. He dodged them, the projectiles sounding like the buzzing of angry bumbleflies in a washing machine.

_That was too close. Focus, Ji._

Reassuming his stance, he planted his feet firmly on the ground. _Keep your head clear._ This was the perfect opportunity to strike. She was looking for another way to get at him; it was time to give her a taste of her own medicine.

He slipped some of the needles down his sleeve, sending the rest flying towards Qí’s head. Predictably, she dropped to the ground, the needles flying overhead and burying their tips in the wall behind her. She flipped back up towards him, somersaulting in the air to bring both her heels down on top of him, but he dropped down, sliding underneath her and flinging a clump of rock up, hitting her full in the chest. 

 _Ooof. That’s gotta hurt. No time for apologies. Get back up_. He was up on his feet again, meshing the needles he’d hidden into a strip that he flung at her, catching one of her wrists before she hit the ground and pinning her up against the wall.

“First mistake,” Qí wheezed, “Never leave the other arm free.” She pulled the wall out, folding it into a suit of rock armour around her and hitting the ground, sending fist-sized clumps of earth howling through the air at him, turning the wall behind him into a series of pockmarked meteor craters as he ducked and wove.

_You can’t pin me down, Qí, he smirked. I’m too fast for-_

Everything went black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lou: The dream sequence is partially inspired by Hayao Miyazaki's last film _The Wind Rises_ , and the field of flowers seen in the finale of Korra. The scenery in that spot made me want to fall asleep there among the flowers forever.
> 
> Pat: holy heck thank you all for reading this far!! we're having a lot of fun writing this and we hope you're having fun reading


	3. Ten Thousand Years

There was always a breeze. His pyjamas floated around him, clouds brushing against his fingertips like spun cotton. The fields of fire lilies drifted past far below, petals collected by invisible hands, whirling around him in gentle tornadoes. He could see the shadows of four people on the ground, moving through the flowers in a dance of perfect symmetry, the parted blossoms tracing faint lines in their wake. He watched them quietly as they moved, mesmerised.

He sensed rather than saw Mushi appear beside him. “What are they doing, Uncle?”

The old man looked down at the ocean of red, smiling, “Ah, the dancers. They are making a mandala.” His hand stretched out, following the path of the shadows, showing the intricate pattern in its entirety. “They move through the flowers, making beautiful and complex patterns, so that the wind may smooth all their work away. They have been dancing for ten thousand years, and still they leave no trace.”

Jianyu frowned. “But why do it in the first place if it always gets blown away? It seems like such a waste.”

Mushi tucked his hands back into the sleeves of his billowing robes, “This you must understand, Jiji. While the people around us may seem like the mountains, we are all temporary, like the fire lilies. We have our time in the sun, and then we all must leave. Even mountains are worn down by the wind and rain, and turned to dust.”

He caught a few petals in his fingertips, watching the rest fly away into the clouds, “The wind must be very powerful, then.”

“Yes, it is. But so are mountains. Where the wind wears one down, another rises somewhere else. No element is more powerful than the others.”

“Mom says metal is more powerful than anything else in the world.”

The dancers kept circling below. Mushi was quiet for a long time. “Tell me, Jiji. What happens to your mother’s naval ships, if they are left adrift at sea?”

“They sink.” He let the petals he was holding go, and watched as they joined the streams of confetti drifting away. “The paint peels off. They rust, and creak, and fall to pieces. The water swallows them.”

The old man nodded. “Any element can defeat another, in the right circumstances. It is all part of the balance of the world, like the symmetry of the mandala. No dancer can move without being matched by the others.”

He looks back down at the dancers. “So why aren’t there any airbenders?”

Mushi sighed, and his face suddenly seemed very old. “That is a long and terrible story, Jianyu. It comes from a time before you, and before me.”

“Tell me.”

“Very well.” The clouds lit up in vivid reds and golds as the sun began to dip below the horizon. “This is the story of a very powerful ruler of the Fire Nation, Fire Lord Sozin...”

 

* * *

 

“Hey kid come on, wake up! Jiji!”

He felt like throwing up as he opened his eyes, glasses sitting crooked and cracked on his nose. “Qí? What happened?”

She lets out a breath of relief, helping him to sit up, “Guess you’re not as quick as I thought, pipsqueak. I knocked you a good one on the head. You were out for a bit there.”

He pushed himself up slowly, the world swimming around him, “Man, I had a weird dream.”

“You always have weird dreams.” She stood up beside him, straightening his tunic and glasses up, “Let’s get you inside. No more training until we’re sure you don’t have a concussion.”

 

* * *

 

Mom was packing again.

Jianyu sat quietly at the table, nursing the egg on the side of his head with a block of ice wrapped in a cloth. As much as he liked Qí, he hated it when Mom went away on her search missions. She was always gone for weeks on end, and rarely sent word home. “Why can’t you send someone else to go?”

She frowned in frustration. “Jiji, I’ve told you over and over again. The Avatar is a very dangerous enemy, even if they’re young. I can’t expect my troops to face someone I won’t face myself.”

“But why can’t we be allies with the Avatar?”

“That’s what I hope will happen, if it can. But it’s still dangerous to be out there. You’re safest here.”

“I don’t _want_ to be safe! I’m sick of being left behind!”

“Jianyu! This is the type of attitude I would expect from a snivelling beetle worm, let alone from you. You _will_ behave while I’m gone. Do I make myself clear?”

A timid whimper broke from Jianyu as he sat quietly, and grumbled to himself. His head was aching, and he thought he might have a loose tooth, and Mom was leaving _again_ , and it was _all terrible_ and-

“Hey.” She knelt down with a heavy sigh, and smiled at him fondly. “It’s okay. I won’t be gone long this time, and you’re a tough eleven year old now, aren’t you?”

“I guess.” He hugs her tightly, “Be _careful_ , Mom. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

 

* * *

 

Jianyu called Guanyin from his room as Kuvira made her way through the main hallway and out the front door, following after her. He had seen this ceremony occur a countless amount of times, and yet every moment he spent there standing at the end of the parade ground, his stomach churned like a bag of beetle worms. All he wanted was for Mom to come back safely. She was like a different person here, calculating and in control, every inch the Great Uniter. He felt lonely watching her.

Bowing deeply with her head facing the floor, arms straight at her sides, she spoke with a slow, solemn tone. “I, Kuvira of Jin Nuo, Commander in Chief of the Earth Empire, formally acknowledge the authority of the Council Triumvirate to act as the guides of this great city in my absence.”

A woman, with greying hair and a thin, angular face stepped forward and bowed deeply in return. “I, Councilwoman Huiling, speak on behalf of the Council Triumvirate, and officially accept and recognise the responsibility that Kuvira of Jin Nuo, Commander in Chief of the Earth Empire has entrusted us with in lieu of her travels. May Oma and Shu bless her with a successful journey and shield her from any harm. May she live ten thousand years.”

After a moment of silence, both rose from their positions and faced the small crowd, bowing briefly to acknowledge them before Kuvira turned away, marching off towards the mountains as one of the guards played the salute on a tsungi horn. Jianyu’s hand buried itself into the smooth and prickly fuzz of Guanyin’s fur as he watched her go. He stayed there in the gathering dusk, watching until the last glint of her metal uniform disappeared into the mountains.

The guards on the battlements sung out the call. “ALL HAIL THE GREAT UNITER!”

His chest hurt.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lou: Iroh is back! And Jiji has very odd dreams indeed.
> 
> The idea of a ten thousand year eternity seems to be a very prevalent idea in The Legend of Korra, especially in book 2, with the occurrence of harmonic convergence every ten thousand years. It is used in Chinese on Kuvira's banners throughout book 4, that read "may Kuvira live 10,000 years". It seems to be the Avatar equivalent of an eternity (maybe coming from the idea of a cyclical eternity in traditional Indian mythology?). I based the idea of the dancers' mandala off the sand mandalas made by Buddhist monks, who make intricately patterned mandalas out of sand and then brush them all away to show the impermanence of life and the material world.
> 
> Jin Nuo is the new name for Zaofu. Kuvira isn't so self-absorbed to name it after herself, but the old name just couldn't stay :) The new name roughly means "gracious metal".
> 
> Pat: holy heck thank you all for reading this far! we're having a lot of fun writing this and we hope you're having fun reading


	4. Silence

It was dark here, and so, so quiet.

Massive trees soared around him, the tops reaching up towards the clouds. They dwarfed him, the trunks at least three times as wide as he was tall. The canopy cut out the sun, so he was left in an immense world of half-light, shaded by the ghostly yellow-green hues of lightning bugs. Feet padding softly on the moss-covered ground, he picked his way through the trees, peering through the low-hanging mist that clung to his sleeves. It was beautiful, in a gloomy way. He heard the thumps of a herd of giant liondeer passing by and scrambled to see them, slack-jawed in awe as he gazed up at their magnificent flanks and dimly glowing eyes.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?”

He whirled around to see the young girl standing beside him, barely visible in the dim light, a strange blue arrow tattooed on her forehead and on the backs of her hands. “They’re wonderful.”

“You’re right.” She smiled gently. “Come on. It’s less gloomy in the tree tops.” She held out her hand for him, toes already leaving the ground.

“I can’t fly.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You can do anything you put your mind to, here. Like a dream.”

He took her hand slowly, and felt his feet lift off the ground.

 

* * *

 

“Perhaps _Master Jianyu_ can enlighten us?”

He snapped awake to the sound of muffled giggles from the girls in the class, looking up at the teacher hurriedly and then around frantically for help. His friend Honjo was sitting beside him, casually collecting pebbles on his desk to toss at the front row while Sifu Horikoshi wasn’t looking. Jiji could tell he wasn’t going to be much help. “Could you, uh, repeat the question please, sir?”

“Sleeping in class _again_ , Jianyu. These are important lessons, you need to pay attention.”

He could feel himself blushing as Sifu Horikoshi shook his finger at him. “Apologies, sir.”

The elderly teacher nodded and turned back to the board. “The question was, why did the Great Uniter attack and conquer the former United Republic?”

“Because it was built on the stolen land of the former Earth Kingdom, sir, which made it the rightful property of the current Earth Empire.”

“And why was it necessary to take the United Republic?”

“We are strongest when we are united,” Jianyu could feel the practised words rolling off his tongue, “divided, we fall. The former United Republic is a part of our land, and our people, and belongs as a part of the whole. Without it, we would not be the nation we are today.”

Sifu Horikoshi nodded his head solemnly, “Quite correct. Though I’d be concerned if your mother hadn't drummed it into you by now.” He moved on, explaining the details of the battle to the class, a story they’d all heard before. A renegade Avatar and her friends creating injustices and destruction wherever they set foot, and their own heroic Great Uniter, bringing about order and peace in the most direct way possible, sacrificing her own beloved fiance in the process. Jiji fixed his glasses absently, staring at the images of the Avatar’s friends peering back up at him in flat black and white print from the textbook. It just seemed sad, really. They had thought they were doing the right thing. They were just taught by the wrong people. Everyone knew now; the Avatar was the ultimate force of chaos in this world.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the obnoxious ringing of the bell. All the children scrambled to pack away their books, bowing hurriedly to Sifu Horikoshi and running out into the welcoming summer sun. Honjo leaned over, putting away his textbook. He was rather stocky in build, sturdy and still taller than Jianyu, with short black hair and a square-jawed face that the girls in the class liked to call 'handsome' to tease him. “Are you coming to play kickball, Jiji?”

He grinned. “Sure.”

He slung his bag over his shoulder. “Come on then, we’re heading to the park.” He moved up to the front of the classroom, bowing to Sifu Horikoshi quickly before running off to catch up with the others. Jianyu quickly followed him, bowing and hurrying out before the Sifu’s grumpy huff could evolve into a lecture.

 

* * *

 

“I should probably head home.”

They were both covered in dust, scuffs and grazes, uniforms messy and disarranged. Honjo kicked a pebble along beside him, his hands tucked into his pockets. “We could. Ooor, we could climb up on the roof of the radio building and watch them close the domes.”

He chewed his lip. They shouldn’t be out after curfew, if they got caught Mom would find out… but Mom wasn’t there. “Just until the domes close?”

“Just until they close.”

They turned a street corner, heading towards the radio building in silence. Honjo lead him to a ladder in a nook on the side of the building, clambering quickly up to the platform beneath the base of the broadcast tower and sitting down, legs dangling over the side. Jiji followed after him, sitting down beside him and looking out over the valley the city was nestled in. The sun shone off the metal domes folded open like lotus flowers as it set, the river that flowed between the domes glittering silvery-gold. Honjo shielded his eyes, looking at the city splayed out below, “The domes are amazing. I’m glad they were replaced after the Republic City battle, I never get bored of looking at them.”

“I heard this place was called Zaofu, before Mom changed it to Jin Nuo.” He swung his legs absently, “Apparently this is where metalbending was invented.”

“And look at it now.”

Jiji smiled, “It’s beautiful.”

Honjo nodded and pulled a pair of apples out of his school bag, passing one over before taking a bite of his own, “I wonder what else is out there, though.”

He took the apple happily, polishing it on his sleeve, “Why would anyone ever want to leave?”

A shrug answered him, “Adventure?”

“Mom says it’s very dangerous out there.”

“Isn’t that exactly what an adventure is?”

Jianyu looked out over the gold-tipped mountains as the giant metal of the domes began to fold up. The end of the valley stretched out over the horizon, sun-lit and shining. Mom was out there, somewhere. “Maybe you’re right, Honjo.” The domes locked shut, the valley disappearing, “Maybe you’re right.”

 

* * *

 

_Sneaking through the city at night isn’t as easy as I thought_ , Jianyu considered, crouching behind a low wall near the rail station, _Especially to try and get between domes. Idiot! I knew this would get me into trouble!_

Still, he was here now, and there was nothing he could do about that fact. And now he had a train to catch, without the guards spotting him. As another one pulled up to the station, he ran out behind the pair of guards who had just walked past, scrambling towards the train doors-

A pair of metal wires hooked around his ankles, hoisting him up and dangling him upside down. He smiled sheepishly at the guard who held him, glasses hanging crooked on his forehead, “Oops?”

 

* * *

 

The lock-up hadn’t changed since she’d quit, Qí could see. It was still the same complex of tiny dark wooden boxes, still the same filthy taste of sweat and rust hanging in the air. The warden, a short, heavily-built man named Deng, was waiting for her out the front of the interrogation block, arms folded across his metal-plated chest. _Slimy ass-_ , she thought, before she could stop herself. He was just doing his job, she knew, but the way he leered at her made her want to crush him in his own armour like a cabbage slug.

“Nice of you to show up, Sergeant.”

“Don’t rub it in, Chief.” She wasn’t going to let the salt sting that old wound. “Where is he?”

“Inside, sulking.”

She brushes past him, pushing open the doors of the interrogation block and glaring the hopeful look off of Jiji’s face. “You, mister, are in big trouble. Get up, we’re going home.”

She pulls him out of the block once he got up, ignoring the smug look on Deng’s face as she dragged him out to the rail station where the last train was waiting. Climbing on board, she waited until the doors were shut and the cars moving before addressing Jiji’s sheepish silence. “What, in the names of Oma and Shu, did you think you were doing?”

His feet shuffled aimlessly on the metal floor, and she could see the ringed bruises of the guard’s cables coming up in welts on his ankles. “I just wanted to watch the domes close with Honjo. I forgot it took longer to get home than him.”

She rubbed her eyes. “With luck, this won’t get back to your mother. You could have been mistaken for an insurgent, Jiji. You know how dangerous that is.”

“I know.”

Spirits, his voice was so bitter. She knew how it felt, to see the mountains outside the city and think, what if? _No_ , she thought, _your place is here. You know that. They need you here, for when the time is right._

Thank Guanyin Kuvira hadn’t built a machine to read minds yet.

She sat down beside Jiji quietly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders gently. _Careful, careful. Be a mirror, reflect only what they show you._ “Look, I know you were just having fun. But there are rules for a reason. Promise me you won’t do it again.”

He leaned into her, resting his head on her shoulder. “I promise.”

She nodded and squeezed his shoulder gently, “I’m still mad at you. But I’m glad you’re okay. Pipsqueak.”

_Be patient. Wait and listen. The time will be right soon, soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lou: Thank you so much to everyone who's following this :) we're having a lot of fun.  
> We've been getting some questions about Jiji, Kuvira and air benders, and just want to say that all questions will be answered soon enough, we're planning chapters well ahead.  
> A few notes for anyone curious:  
> -There's a fairly well-circulated fan theory that Zaofu was built in the mountain pass where Toph discovered metalbending, so we're running with that.  
> -A few references to _The Wind Rises_ in here.  
>  -Guanyin is both the name of Jiji's badgermole and of the Earth Kingdom Great Spirit of compassion and mercy, taken from the Chinese deity of the same name.  
> -Qí is going to become a much more major character soon.  
> -Jinora's first cameo! :)  
> We hope you're enjoying it so far! :)


	5. Unfinished Business

The sky was darker than usual. The wind whipped around him viciously, stinging his cheeks, uprooting the flowers by the roots. The clouds looked angry and raw, like his rubbed red eyes after he’d been crying. He could see the dancers on the top of the next hill and hurried towards them, his tunic flapping in the wind. They were moving closer together than they had been before, flowing in a dance so lightning-fast and smooth it left him breathless just to watch. He stopped a few meters from them, a little panicked, “What’s going on? Where’s Mushi?”

Nothing but silence answered him as the dancers moved. He scanned the horizon, but Mushi was no-where to be seen, and he could feel panic rising in his chest like the strengthening gale. He stumbled towards them, his boots catching on upturned clumps of earth. Everything seemed to slow down. And as he fell face-first into the circle, the universe went silent.

The earth was almost warm beneath his cheek. Everything was still, as if the universe was waiting for something. He could feel the hairs on the backs of his arms prickling, the same way it felt to stand too close to an electric current in a mechasuit. _Maybe this is how it feels before lightning strikes._

He pushed himself up slowly, brushing the dirt off his tunic. He was in some kind of circle of grass, and lilies, and still evening air. He could see the storm raging on the edge of the ring, but it was silent inside, with clouds of glowing bugs landing gently on his shoulders and arms whenever he held them still for a moment. “Where am I?”

“Don’t worry, you’re safe.” A girl was standing opposite him, dressed in the fur-trimmed blue of the water tribe, her short hair floating around her face despite the lack of breeze. The lightning bugs settled on her shoulders as she gave him a friendly smile and sat down among the flowers, “You must be very confused.”

He nodded slowly, sitting down opposite her, “What is this place?”

“The spirit world. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

He looked out at the storm as lightning streaked across the sky, “Seems pretty angry to me.”

“Beauty and emotions aren’t always opposites. Sad and angry things… they can be beautiful too.”

“Who _are_ you?”

“My name is Korra.” _Wait, what?_

She smiled, but it looked sad. “I was the Avatar.” _Oh._

She didn’t look like the Avatar from the textbooks he had at school. She looked like something out of Mushi’s stories. “So why are you talking to _me?_ Where’s Mushi?”

“He told me now was the right time to talk to you.” She picked one of the fire lilies gently, holding it between her hands as if it were made of intricate glass, paper-thin. “He said you were ready.”

“Ready for what? What’s going on?”

She looked at him quietly, and if he didn’t know better, he could have sworn she was glowing. “You’re the Avatar, Jianyu.”

“Oh.” A pause. “Okay.”

“You’re very calm.”

He shrugged and looked out at the fields, “Well, it’s just a dream, isn’t it? I mean, you’re completely bonkers. But it’s only a dream.”

The storm was speeding up outside the circle, and the robes of the dancers flowed like long, streaming ribbons in the hurricane. Korra followed his gaze, blue eyes calm as the lightning lit them both up in stark contrast. “They’ll be okay. The storm doesn’t affect them.”

“What are they?”

“Who knows?” She shrugged and looked back at her hands. The fire lily blossomed between her palms, the petals flowing and morphing like silver until it was unrecognisable, folding in on itself over and over in a kind of delicate origami. Finally, she held it out to him, small and round between her fingers, “Here, take this. Give it to Qí.”

He took it carefully, turning over the Pai Sho tile in his fingers. The lotus flower carved into the surface had worn smooth from decades of use. He looked back up at Korra, “What if this isn’t a dream?”

“Does it matter?” Her eyes were definitely glowing, now. “Dreams are what you make of them, Jianyu.”

 

* * *

 

When he woke up, it was to the blurry, concerned snuffles of Guanyin against his face. He reached up, scratching the crook of his neck. “Sorry, buddy. Was I talking in my sleep? It’s okay. It was only a dream.”

The room still seemed fairly dark around him, the kind of dim grey that preceded the dawn. He reached over Guanyin to where his glasses sat on the table beside the bed, groping for them for a second before he stopped dead in his tracks.

There was something in his hand.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally found the thick metal frame, spare fingers wrapping around it and pushing it roughly onto his nose. He held his breath, heart thumping as he looked down at the small wooden circle swaddled in his fingers.

The lotus tile.

It was like the ocean had opened up beneath him and swallowed him whole. He was watching himself from afar, waves of realisation crashing over him and pushing him down. Everything was muffled, and the air itself seemed to smother him. But the worst part was, it made sense. He knew she had told the truth. He wished that she had drowned him instead.

_Mom is going to kill me._

The thought sent a chill down his spine like ice water, but it was there, seared with perfect clarity onto the insides of his eyelids. _I’m the Avatar, and Mom is going to kill me._

He curled into Guanyin, clinging to his fur like a lifeline.

_I need to get out of here._

 

* * *

 

_This is not what I expected._

Jiji was standing in front of her in tears, a complete mess. She wasn’t even out of her pyjamas. And yet it was real. Solid and smooth in her hand, the small round tile carved with a ghost straight up out of her nightmares.

 _A_ male _Earth Kingdom Avatar? Has that ever happened before?_ He was adopted, true, so it was possible. But for thousands of years, it had always been women. The gurus said it was because Guanyin favoured the women- apparently not. _Shu is guarding him this time._

_You’ve waited and listened. Time to move._

They’d take the badgermole, tunnel out. They might set of the seismic sensors, but if they were quick enough, if they could push through the shell of the domes- _no, stupid, won’t work. Platinum._ Metal bender or not, she’d never get through the platinum plates. Maybe go Beifong style, use her guard’s cables and go over the side. They’d have to go at night, and alone- she couldn’t lift Guanyin, not by a long shot. They’d take whatever supplies were left in the complex, slip out between guard patrols, be on the other side of the mountains before anyone knew they were missing-

“She’s going to kill me, isn’t she?”

His choked voice cut through her thoughts like a boulder crashing through rice paper. _Of course. He thinks Kuvira will hate him. I can use this._

_But should I? What’s crueler? Lying to him, or letting him be turned into a weapon?_

She sighed and quickly knelt down to his height, looking him in the eyes and pulling him into a tight hug. “We need to get you out of here.”

She could feel his nod against her shoulder, wet and brave at the same time. She felt bad for him, but her head was clear. _He’s the Avatar, our best hope. I am not letting him slip through my fingers._

She pulled back from the hug, holding his shoulders steadily. “Jianyu. Listen to me. You are a rock. You are the mountains. You will survive this.”

He nodded quietly and wiped his eyes on his sleeve (to no avail). “What do you need me to do?”

“Go and get dressed. Bring out a spare set of clothes and your spare glasses. I’ll pack everything else we’ll need.”

“We’re taking Guanyin too, aren’t we?”

 _Spirits, I can’t say no to that face. Bad luck to leave Guanyin’s namesake behind anyway._ “I’ll see what I can do.” She ruffled his hair, “Run along, pipsqueak.”

As he stumbled off towards his room, she considered her options. She didn’t know where the White Lotus was based nowadays. They might have to travel a long way before they found any sort of help, with Kuvira’s troops on their trail. She knew Avatar Aang had avoided the Fire Nation for months on end near the peak of the war, but she was no airbender. She was used to fighting the enemy head-on, not running for her life. If they even made it as far as the Fire Nation - and she sincerely doubted they would - Fire Lord Izumi wasn’t about to listen to two of Kuvira’s closest associates. They probably wouldn’t even make it past the border.

So, they needed to get a long way away from here, and fast. Stick to the peripheries of the Empire. She moved to pull on her old guard’s uniform and reached into the back of her wardrobe, pulling out a worn knapsack. The tough fabric was coated in wax so as to be waterproof, but nonetheless was covered in stains. She quickly stuffed another set of clothes and shoes in, along with a spare square of fabric to be ripped into bandages if they needed. _This is so rushed, we’ve got no time-_

 _Shut up. You’ve survived before, you’ll do it again. What else do you need?_ Food, waterskins, a map, yuans, some flint. She moved into the kitchen, sitting the bag on the bench as she turned out the cupboards for anything that wouldn’t go stale after a few hours. She could hear Jiji’s approaching footsteps through the floor as she dug out dry biscuits, bags of rice, salt, a jar of honey, some flour- “Jiji. Fill up three waterskins, please, and a fourth with grown-up water.” It wasn’t pleasant, but she’d readily clean wounds with firewater rather than letting them go bad. It’d make a good fire starter, too.

He stumbled to do what she’d asked, still sniffling - _perfect, ocean kumquats_ \- and puffy-eyed. He looked like he was ill. She packed the food she’d found into the bag, along with Jiji’s spare clothes. There was still room, but not much. _I can make sparks with metal. The flint will have to stay._ “Do you know where your Mom keeps her maps?”

“She took them with her,” came the muffled reply. “I think there are spares in her desk drawer.”

She moved off to the aforementioned office, mind going at a million miles per hour. _This is it. I can turn the tide of this war. We may be down, they may have kicked us into the ground like cabbage worms, but it’s not over until I’ve stopped breathing or bled out._ She stopped outside the office, looking at the Earth Empire emblem emblazoned on the door. _Nothing personal, Kuvira. Maybe things could have been different. Maybe one day, they can be._

She tried the door. Locked. Well, it wasn’t like she was avoiding property damage. A hard kick to the handle buckled the mechanism, and a second one pushed the metal barricade over. Then she was in, and pulling the desk apart until she found what she was looking for, discarded papers floating gently to the ground like startled birds returning to roost. The maps folded neatly under her arm, she stopped by her room and grabbed her purse, stuffing it with as many yuans as she could before moving back to the kitchen, packing both items into the top of the bag and doing it up. The waterskins could hang off the bag straps. “Okay, I think that’s everything.”

Jiji held up the lotus tile she’d dropped, his hands shaking a little, “What about this?”

 _Oh. Can't forget that._ “Good spotting, pipsqueak. Keep it in your pocket.”

He tucked it inside his tunic carefully, “How’re we gonna get out, Qí?”

Damn. She’d forgotten about that. Jiji looked up at her expectantly, face splotchy like he’d had some kind of allergic reaction.

_That’s it!_

She grinned despite herself, “Go and get Guayin. Don’t wipe your face. We’ll take you to the doctor.”

“But I’m not sick-”

“We won’t get there. That’s our cover.” It could get them all the way to the other side of the city, if necessary. “We’re gonna get out of here. I promise.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! Next chapter, and from there on, the fic is going to get /violent/. We'll update the tags before we upload, but it's going to be graphic.
> 
> Pat: we're gonna change the warnings in the next couple chapters so keep an eye out for that  
> from teens to mature because it gets pretty violent (shots 2 lou)  
> fun fact the title for this chapter was our first go at naming this fic
> 
> Lou: Korra's first appearance! She'll be around a bit more from now on :)
> 
> Qi's history is going to take quite a bit of exploring, which we'll get to in a few chapters. She may be Jiji's mentor, but that doesn't leave her without her own motivations, and boy does she have them. 
> 
> Hope you're all enjoying the fic so far! Thank you so much for the comments, reviews, faves and kudos! It means so much to us :)


	6. Fugitives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter gets super violent! Proceed with caution!

“This is RIDICULOUS!” Varrick waved the newspaper around dramatically, “My moustache doesn’t look like that at all!”

The applecherry blossoms floated in through the open wall as they sat at the breakfast table, overlooking the quiet fields of Shu Jing village. It was one of the first warm days of spring, and the sun lit up the grass in a rolling carpet of green pastures all the way down to the glittering bay. Nothing short of perfect.

“Give me that.” Asami took the newspaper from him quickly, reading through the article, “Hmm. Izumi’s not going to like this.”

Zhu Li looked up from her tea, bouncing Mingzhu on her knee, smiling as she grasped for the falling petals, “What does it say?”

“ _Fire Nation accused of harbouring Earth Empire fugitives,_ ” she read. “ _Fire Lord Izumi is once again embroiled in a diplomatic spat with representatives of the Earth Empire, who accuse her of sheltering deserters from the former United Republic, and members of the armed resistance known as the Dàfēng. Fire Lord Izumi has refuted the claims, stating to the press, ‘The Fire Nation is not and will never harbour the fugitives of another sovereign nation. These accusations do nothing but damage relations between our two nations, bringing about unnecessary distrust.’ Earth Empire representatives are yet to respond with a comment, but the message seems clear. The Fire Nation will not be pushed around._ ”

“See what I mean? Ridiculous! Those Empire chumps make me want to tear my hair out, and I love my hair!” Varrick shovelled a chopstick full of egg into his mouth, chewing indignantly.

Asami folded the newspaper away gently before returning to her tea, smiling at the petals that had landed on the surface of the brew. “Izumi seems to be handling it pretty well, though.”

“She’s an excellent diplomat.” Zhu Li set her daughter down on the floor gently, keeping half an eye on her as she bit into the moon cake she’d gotten herself for breakfast.

“Doesn’t matter if the person you’re working with is crazy!”

“We’re living proof that Kuvira has a reason to be paranoid.” Asami finished her tea, pushing herself up, “And also the reason that Izumi has to be so defensive. I don’t think Kuvira’s crazy, and that’s what scares me most. She knows what she’s doing.”

She moved off as Varrick continued his animated complaints, stepping down from the balcony and out into the orchard. It was snowing, pink-white as if the trees were blushing. It looked like a dream. She could use a good dream, for once.

The sweet smell clung to her sleeves as she walked to the top of the hill the orchard was saddled against, the long grass somewhat difficult to navigate in her zori. It had taken a while to get used to the layering of the kimono after the fitted outfits of Republic City, but Shu Jing was traditional Fire Nation through and through, and they had to blend in. She couldn’t seem to shake the memory of the United Republic any more than she could the scent of blossoms from her hair. Some days, if she strained, she thought she could glimpse it on the horizon- the empty, derelict towers of Air Temple Island, at least. It was just her imagination, of course. It was all so long ago, now, and so far away. She still felt like she was slowly waking up to a nightmare, and the flowers were the calm before the storm. It wasn’t right that the world could be peaceful without her friends in it.

She sat down in the grass, and wished she could sink into it. Eleven years. She rolled it around in her mouth. _E-le-ven_. It felt like a cloud, bruised and threatening, crouching near the ground like a wounded animal. It curled in her chest, snarling, claws embedded in her lungs. She knew they would have wanted her to move on, but it was so _hard_.

 _Maybe one day_ , she told herself. _Maybe it won’t hurt as much_. She remembered what Zuko had told her, that horrible night she and Varrick had limped into the the docks of the Caldera. They were cold, shivering and shell-shocked, neither of them much up for talking. Iroh had flown ahead in a sea plane, taking Zhu Li to healers in the capital and warning Izumi they were coming. Varrick was grim, hunched over and pale-faced like he had bled out all across the Mò Cè Sea. She still saw some of that darkness in his face when Zhu Li wasn’t looking, that fierce protectiveness that overshadowed his eyes. But Zuko had been there, along with a small group of firebenders who sank their boat the minute they’d stumbled off, hiding the evidence. His hug was an envelope of warmth and understanding, silent confirmation that it was real, that it had happened, and it was okay to cry.

“One day, Asami,” he’d said, “one day."

She hugged her knees and looked out at the fishing boats bobbing on the bay. _Maybe one day_.

 

* * *

 

The stark, fluorescent lights of the train were a blessing in disguise. The harsh white light painted Jiji’s face in sickly hues, making him look more sallow and ill than he already did. If she was honest, the light layer of flour on his skin helped, taking the colour out of him. The few guards sitting at the end of the carriage shot her sympathetic looks as the young earth bender beside her curled up against the badgermole he was with. Guanyin might be young, but he still took up most of the train carriage. He looked just a little bit ridiculous, with their pack of supplies hung around his neck like the badgermole equivalent of a hippo cow bell.

As the train started to move towards the main city dome, Qí seized the opportunity to gather her thoughts and examine the situation. _It’s a tactical problem. Panic is not going to help here. You have cover, and an escape plan, sort of. Just take a deep breath, and look at the facts._ But before she managed to form a coherent thought, Jiji’s voice, brittle and small, broke her concentration.

“Qí... why are we on the train?” _Oh, he really sounds sick now. Not good. I hope it’s just the nerves getting to him._

Her voice no higher than a slight murmur, “I’ve already told you pipsqueak, we’re going out.”

Jianyu’s eyes widened in warning, “Not so loud! Someone might hear.”

“Out into the fresh air, you idiot.” She rubbed her temples absently. Her brain was fried. “It might clear you up a bit before we get to the doctor.”

“Oh. Okay then.”

As the train continued its journey towards the city dome, the curiosity of the guards appeared to increase, their questioning looks mixed with a low, questioning chatter among them. They were on the verge of asking why the huddled figure of Jianyu was out at this hour with Qí; but they all knew better than to get themselves involved with whatever was going on between the pair. Quiet whispers continued between the three of them before Qí gave them her best Sergeant’s glare, with such ferocity that the youngest of them let out a small yelp of surprise and quickly made the opposite wall seem very interesting.

She snorted and murmured to herself, “Newbies don’t know how to keep their noses out of other people’s business.” Her knees were shaking with nerves, but she’d admit it over her own dead body.

“We must look pretty strange.” He was sounding worse now. It’d be just her luck if they escaped just to have him catch pig chicken pox.

The train pulled to a stop with a small jolt as it arrived at the city dome station. She squeezed Guanyin out through the doors before helping Jiji up onto his back and leading him out onto the street. The afternoon sun beat down on them with spring heat, shining off the smooth buildings that reached towards the heavens with their fingertips.

By the time they reached the other side of the city it was half an hour to curfew, and the roads were almost deserted; but her guard’s uniform, even without the badge, was enough to make most civilians avert their eyes. She held Guanyin back as she peered around the street corner at the next rail station. “This is the fun part, pipsqueak.” She helped him down off the badgermole’s back, ruffling his hair, “You hang back here while I deal with the guards, okay?”

There was a flash of defiance in Jiji’s eyes for a split second, but it quickly disappeared. “Alright.”

She nodded and left him there, rolling her shoulders back and strolling casually up to the station. _Be a commanding officer. Doesn’t matter if you’re not, have the attitude of one. You have surprise on your side._ The pair of guards gave the standard salute, not paying too much attention. And why should they? It was just another boring night, watching over a rail station that got no traffic but for the supply shipments in the morning and redeploying troops at night.

“Do you have clearance to leave, ma’am?”

“Of course,” she said, “I have my pass. It’s just in my pocket, let me get it out…”

She turned slightly away, pretending to search in the side compartment of her armour. _Don’t get too close. Don’t give them time to react. Just hit them in one go_. She pulled two squares of metal off a nearby trashcan, whirling around and smacking them over each guard’s face, sealing them tight. The metal formed death masks, filling into their mouths as they tried to draw breath, tightening over their skulls as they staggered around, trying to claw them off, drawing blood from their scalps. They were too panicked to bend, too poorly trained to do it on instinct. She sunk them into the pavement up to their knees, holding the metal onto their heads until slowly, jerkily, they stopped moving. She waited half a minute more and peeled the covers off their faces, checking their heartbeats. _Not dead, unconscious._ Not the fastest way to take them out, but definitely the quietest. They would need reviving, but by the looks of the train arriving into the station, they’d get it. The conductor took one look at her and the two half-upright bodies in the street before activating the alarm, the station lit up immediately in blinding floodlights, sirens going off all over the place. She cussed under her breath, forcing the train doors open and slamming the conductor into the interior wall, shouting back over the wail of the klaxon. 

“Jiji! Get inside, Guanyin too! Quick!” She dodged a flying seat, grabbing the slight man by the shirt and dragging him out of the train and into the open, staggering back as he headbutted her. _This is going to be fun._

The conductor was ripping chunks of earth out of the ground and flinging them at her, obviously trying to hold out until backup arrived. _Messy form. Not grounded in his stance._ She put herself between him and Jiji as the kid squeezed the badgermole through the carriage doors. He was a fairly good shot, she’d give him that. He was keeping her busy blocking the frantic projectiles, the sound of running footsteps and shouts approaching from either end of the street. _Time to get out of her_ _e_. She threw up a wall and pushed whichever of Jiji’s limbs were still outside in, clambering up on top of the carriage and shunting it off towards the airship docks. Truth be told, she had no idea how to operate this thing, but besides the screech of the breaks along the metal she could push it along the rails with a bit of effort. From the lights activated at the docks, it looked like they’d already radioed ahead to warn the guards in the docks. _Less fun_. Those guards were military, properly trained and probably armed. _Maybe I can throw the train at them._

The thought made her smile.

 

* * *

 

 _This is hands down the worst shift I’ve ever worked_ , Guowei thought as he watched the renegade carriage hurtling towards them. The captain hadn’t even finished his noodles before the alarms went off, and now there was some sort of banshee riding a train towards his squad.

“Spread out! Make yourselves harder to hit!” The others scattered into a loose semi-circle, pulling strips of metal from their arms and sharpening them in preparation. The train slid into the depot, barely stopped for a millisecond before the woman on the roof had launched herself off, spinning a sheet of metal in front of her to absorb their missiles. She was shielding someone inside the train, someone struggling to push a badgermole through the doors- _isn’t that Kuvira’s son? What in Shu’s name is going on?_

If that was Jianyu, then nothing good. _Is he being kidnapped? Where is his Sifu? She should be guarding him- oh_. He nearly wet his pants. The clamps holding the train to the rails were being snapped open, metal screeching in protest as the former Sergeant Qí _lifted the train carriage above her head-_

“RETREAT! RETREAT!”

He backed up as his squad scattered, knees shaking. She looked like an evil djinn, lit by flashes of sparking electricity, face twisted into a vicious scowl. Jianyu was running off from behind her, making a beeline towards an airship, a small military vehicle used for hunting deserters- _they’re escaping._

He was almost tempted to let them go. The carriage hanging over his head was certainly convincing. But his commanders would have his skin.

_Service never demands suicide._

The compartment came crashing down towards him before he could change his mind, oddly silent for a second as it flew through the air. He pushed up a wall of metal from the docks, bracing himself for impact- fifty tonnes of reinforced steel came crashing down, driving him back and shattering his wrists with the impact. He slid back across the metal platform, peeling more and more metal up into the barricade, digging his feet into the steel floor. The noise was unbearable, he couldn’t hear or see anything but the mess of metal he was barely holding together-

One of his squad hooked a cable around his waist, yanking him out from in front of the locomotive as it careered into the side of a support tower, pulverizing the front half of the compartment in an almighty blow and bursting into flames.

Guowei leaned on his constable’s leg, not bothering to try and get back up before he passed out.

 

* * *

 

_That… was terrifying._

Jiji’s feet pounded on the long metal dock, each step ringing like bells. Guanyin was following close behind him, confused by the amplified and reverberating vibrations moving through the floor. He could hear explosions crashing out behind him like earthquakes, but he didn’t look back.

_She threw a train at them!_

Somehow, he wasn’t surprised. Mom had picked Qí to tutor him for a reason. But he’d never seen her fight like this before, vicious and forceful. Training was about technique, this- this was life or death.

He’d be seeing those death masks in his nightmares, he knew. If he even had his own nightmares. He had no idea what his dreams were anymore.

He reached the airship Qí had pointed him at, putting one hand on the metal side and immediately sensing the distinctive vibrations of running footsteps. He pulled a strip of metal out of the dock, spreading his fingers and shredding it into a hundred razor-sharp splinters. _This is it, Ji. Remember what Qí says: don’t hesitate. They won’t._

He pulled the gangplank down and climbed inside, immediately under fire from a trio of nightwatch soldiers racing down the corridor he’d stepped into. He ducked and wove, avoiding the strips from the uniforms of the first two and sending the needles back at them, filling their throats with pinholes. _That’s a lot of blood_. Their hands found their throats skewered with razors, and they sunk to the floor, unable to hold the wounds without pushing the needles in further.

The third soldier fought him from behind her dying comrades, pulling the outer shell of the airship in, trying to crush him. He pushed against it, struggling for control as it buckled in on him, slowly being sandwiched against the inside wall. He could see the determination in her face, the horror, she probably had family- he was shaking with the exertion, most of the needles dropping to the floor like tinkling glass, fingers digging into the metal and he was _losingroomtobreathe_ \- he inhaled deeply and let go of it all in an instant, flinging shards of metal through her eyes as the wall slammed into him, audibly cracking his ribs.

“Aaah!”

The sound set his teeth on edge as he bent the metal back, crawling out from under the crumpled panels. There was blood leaking out from between the woman’s fingers as she grasped at her face, a deep, carmine red. It made his stomach turn, the world swimming in front of him for a moment as he stumbled over. _If they’re still moving, they’re still a threat,_ Qí’s voice commanded in the back of his head. _Get them away from you, or finish the job_. He grabbed the back of her uniform, trying to ignore her sobs as he pushed her out the airship door and sent her rolling down the gangplank into a limp heap at the bottom. _Well, she’s not moving_. His lips felt numb. He was left with the twitching bodies of her two comrades, strewn haphazardly across the floor. They looked oddly like dolls, limp and pale. He stepped over them, slipping around in the blood as he headed for the cockpit of the airship. The fighting outside was drawing closer, and he wrapped his arm around his ribs to stop himself collapsing. It hurt to walk, to breathe, to _think_ , but Qí needed this hunk of metal running by the time she got here.

The cockpit was deserted, quiet but for the low hum of a generator and the muffled conflict outside. The controls weren’t as complicated as the mechasuits Mom had shown him. _Front and rear engines, rudder, altitude, vents_. He turned on the engines, letting them power up and watching the fight through the window. Qí was backed up against Guanyin, slowly edging towards the airship as the line of guards and soldiers closed in on her in a coordinated crescent. She was drenched in sweat, her wet forehead reflecting the moonlight as one shot punctured her thigh armour, two-

Guanyin raised his huge paws, dwarfing her in shadow for a moment before he brought them both crashing back down on either side of her, the metal of the dock rolling back like a tsunami and knocking her opponents off the dock. Qí didn’t stop to look, widening the airship door and shoving Guanyin inside, limping in after him and shouting to Jiji, “Go!”

_Lucky the domes aren't shut yet._

He knocked the engines into gear, sending the ship forward so fast it snapped the cables mooring it and sent him stumbling back. He reached out and pulled the joystick towards him, putting the vessel on a trajectory up and out. Leaning against the window he looked back down at the docks, blinking in astonishment when he saw every other vessel there crumpled into a pile of scrap metal.

“Airships are easier to throw than trains. They already float.” Qí stumbled in, flopping into the co-pilot’s chair and inspecting the strips of metal embedded in her thigh, blood dripping down her leg. “I can’t remove these without a healer, might have cut an artery. How’re you doing, pipsqueak?”

Jiji shook his head. He didn’t want to talk. It was all washing over him, the blood, the limp bodies, his _chest_ -

Qí caught him as he fell.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lou: Well, that was fun, haha. Qí is a very strong bender, but she tends to overkill to compensate for technique. And we're starting to meet the others! Asami and Zhurrick are going to have a much greater role soon enough :) 
> 
> Pat: This was fun to write, and edit :) Also, as it says at the top, this chapter and most likely future chapters will get violent (to this scale we don't know). We have changed the rating and warnings for this fic so please keep this in mind!
> 
> Thank you all for reading so far! It means a lot to us both!


	7. Monument to the Burned

The forest loomed over him.

It was no longer still, whipped instead into a tumultuous storm, vicious and biting, leaves caught by the hurricane slicing across his fingers as he shielded his face. There was a howling, like the sound of the woman with the bleeding eyes, full of agony and horror. He sat down on the ground heavily, curling in on himself and covering his ears. He was crying, and his chest hurt, and he could only try to swallow the panic over and over and over, trying not to suffocate.

His hands were covered in blood.

“You’ll be okay.” She was there again, the girl with the strange tattoos. She sat in front of him, perfectly still, the wind seeming to flow around her. “It hurts. But you’ll be alright.”

“How can you know that? You don’t know what I’ve done!”

“You’ve done only what you have to.”

“No, I didn’t have to! I’ve killed people!”

She took his hand gently, running her thumb over the cuts the leaves had made. He watched in awe as the wounds healed behind them, sealing up neatly as a lock mechanism sliding into place. He looked up at her, voice shaking, “Who are you?”

“My name is Jinora. I’m an airbending master.” The storm was dying down, slowly returning to the same silence as before, heavy as a set of thick curtains. She stood up slowly, her short hair falling over her cheeks as she helped him up, “Come with me. I have something to show you.”

The world blurred around them, shifting and melting like ice cones in the sun. When it finally settled again it was in a dusty valley, dotted with teetering pillars of rock. There were boulders strewn everywhere, shattered and cracked. He could tell from the sharp cuts in the tops of the pillars, there’d been earthbenders here. It was a scene of rubble and debris, of a savage struggle. He knelt down, feeling the dust between his fingers. He couldn’t bend, so he was still dreaming- _no, not dreaming. You’re in the spirit world._

“What happened here?”

“An airbender.” Jinora was watching him quietly, hands clasped in front of her. “He believed that true freedom could only come with chaos, without authority or order. He tried to kill the Avatar here.”

“But chaos is the worst thing that could happen!” His head hurt. “How would anyone know what to do, who to follow?”

“That was exactly the problem. He took his beliefs too far. Too much freedom comes at the price of order, just as too much order comes at the price of freedom. Neither is good in isolation.” She looked up at the towering rocks, “Airbenders have an ancient belief in nonviolence. We do our best not to harm anyone, ever. We’re even vegetarians. But when the future of our nation was in danger, when we were being wiped out- we’d have been idiots not to fight back. Just as order and freedom must exist in balance, so must violence and peace. There is a time for everything in the world, Jianyu. Even the ugly things.”

“I’ve still killed people.” He was feeling less hollow, now. He still felt horrible, but it was beginning to make sense.

“Did you mean to?”

“No!” He paused. “Well, I wanted to stop them. But I didn’t want to kill them.”

“I’m not saying that what you did is something to be proud of. But it is necessary, sometimes. You can try to avoid it wherever you can, but sometimes it’s beyond your control.”

The thought was terrifying. “I _need_ to be able to control myself, though!”

“You can control yourself all you want, Jianyu, but there will always be others you cannot.” She pursed her lips. “I am not condoning what you did. And while remorse is all well and good, you do need to make amends.”

“How can I ever do that?”

“Start by not doing it again. Remember this day. You might have the chance to apologise, one day. But in the meantime, make it your path to never do it again. You are the Avatar, Jianyu. You must bring peace.”

Everything was beginning to melt away at the edges, slowly and subtly. _I must be waking up_. He tried not to panic. “But how? How do I bring peace? I’ll never hurt anyone again!”

He faded away, and Jinora watched him go, frowning. _Easier said than done, Jianyu._

 

* * *

 

It was quiet in the hospital, the same kind of quiet that accompanied shrines. Yan was glad. It made things uncomplicated, easy. The nurses came in every half hour, feeding her a mixture of Mámù flowers and Banyan-grove bark in small spoonfuls of fragrant paste, bringing with them the gentle loss of sensation that distracted her from the itching of the bandages on her face. She liked it here, with everything so neatly folded around her, laying on the bed with nothing to do but breathe.

The sun was shining in on her when the footsteps came, warming her fingertips on the soft cloth of the blanket. They sounded metallic, like guards’ boots.

“How are you feeling?”

She’d never heard her voice outside of the parade ground. It sounded… a lot gentler than expected. “I’ve been better, Kuvira, ma’am.”

She heard her shift around to sit in the guest’s chair, the chink of her uniform as it settled around her. “Are you able to tell me what happened?”

Yan resisted the urge to snort. “Your son put needles through my eyes, ma’am. I thought that was fairly obvious given the bandages all over my face. Or are you blind too?”

Kuvira scowled. The doctors had warned her that Yan would have some trouble with emotional responses, not reading a situation correctly; but it didn’t stop the knee-jerk reaction at that sting. _She has every right to be as bitter or derisive as she wants. She took a deep breath_. “I apologise for my son’s behaviour. Be rest assured I will do everything in my power to fix this.”

“It’s a bit beyond fixing now, Great Uniter.” Her voice was flat and monotonous- Kuvira wondered if that was the brain injury or the soldier talking.

_Why does every family I make fall to pieces? Where did I go wrong with him?_

“Tell me if there is anything I can do.”

Yan was silent for a long time. Kuvira leaned over her, trying to tell if she was asleep or not. After half an hour, it began to rain, the water painting the light through the window in broad, dappled strokes. She left.

 

* * *

 

“Thanks for taking us in. We had nowhere else to go. I’ll give you some yuans for your trouble, what we can spare.”

“I don’t want your money.” Irritated, the old healer sighed deeply, gesturing for her to sit on a stool in the corner of the room. She had introduced herself with a name and a gruff nod, shepherding them into the dimly lit studio where a small bed of hot coals glowed in the fireplace. “You can call me Nayan,” she’d said, “and call yourselves poorly timed. It’s past high moon.”

Now, with her materials ready, the healer gathered some mud from a clay pot near the fire and began working it in steady circles on Qí’s leg, frowning. “What could you have possibly done to get this stuck in your thigh, and wake me up at this hour? Not to mention the child’s broken ribs.”

Jiji was limp on the bed in the corner of the room, looking as if he were about to pass out from exhaustion, despite only being woken up moments ago. He wasn’t going to be arguing any time soon, still shivering despite the warmth of the healer’s tea room.

_That fight must have taken a lot more out of him than I-_

A gruff cough from the healer interrupted her mid-thought.

“Sorry, uh, we’ve had a long night.” She scrambled for ideas. _Kuvira would know what to say, she’s always so good at this- Kuvira!_ “You see, we left his mother tonight.”

The healer, to Qí’s surprise, did not seem shocked at all. “You’re another one of those ones then, eh? Well that does happen on occasion in these parts, but I didn’t expect to see a piece of metal lodged in your thigh. The broken bones in the boy can be expected, unfortunately.”

She gestured at her armour, “We’re not from around these parts. Everyone at home is a metal bender.”

“Metal benders? You’re from Zaofu?”

“Actually, it’s been called Jin Nuo for almost a decade now.”

She looked at her derisively, “Child, political semantics are beyond concern when you get to my age. It doesn’t matter if that city is called Zaofu or Jin Nuo, they both mean the same place.”

“Well-”

“-the same place, regardless.”  _Why am I always getting cut off? I swear, by Oma and Shu-!_

Qí inhaled sharply as the metal lodged in her thigh suddenly made a dull clang noise and fell to the floor. The mud however, continued to move in a constant circular manner, healing the hole left by the metal as the sharp, stinging pain subsided to a slight throb.

“Spirits, give a lady a little warning next time.”

“I was just enjoying our little chat. Not often I get such… unusual company. Besides, I can tell a shard of metal in your thigh isn’t the worst injury you’ve had, child.”

Qí muttered under her breath. “You’re telling me.”

“Sorry, what was that? Quit mumbling.” _Thank spirits old people can’t hear as well._

“Oh, nothing. How about you heal my son over there and we can keep talking?”

Acknowledging Qí’s response, the healer made her way over to a barely conscious Jianyu. “Don’t touch the mud on your thigh, young lady; and stay in your seat while I heal the boy.” Instead of mud, the healer now collected some water from a clay pot, adjacent to the mud. A slow hum reverberated throughout the room as the water started to heal some of Jianyu’s broken bones.

“These wounds look quite fresh you know, how did you manage to escape and travel so far in such little time?”

“You’re pretty observant for a civilian, I’ll give you that. And why should I tell you? You don’t even know my name.”

“If you’re smart, you won’t tell me,” was the response. _Smarter than she looks. She’s poking at us with a stick. Time to crush that flat._

“Well, _healer lady_ , as I said earlier, my son and I left his mother tonight. Frankly, she’s not a very nice woman and despite me trying to talk it out with her, she obviously didn’t take it that well. I mean, look at us. My only regret is that I didn’t leave with him sooner. We barely managed to get out, and arrived here one of her airships. Finding this village was a gift of the spirits.” _It doesn’t hurt to bend the truth a little._

“An airship? She must be rich.”

“You could say that, yes. Anyway, long story short, we landed not too far from here when we saw the village lights, and were in need of serious medical attention before stumbling across your place, clearly.”

Jianyu stirred from his semi-conscious state, slowly sitting up as the humming of healing water started to fade, and focused on Qí still sitting on the stool.

“Qí? Where are we?” _Damn it, kid. Don’t blow our cover._

“What an interesting name, Qí. And what is your name boy?”

“Ji-”

“-his name is Lee! He probably isn’t thinking straight after being out of it for so long, am I right _Lee?_ ” _Come on, he can’t be that dense.. right?_

“Uh-” He caught Qí’s glare from over Nayan’s shoulder, “yes. Sorry ma’am. My name is Lee.”

“He was named after his grandfather, though, so we just call him Junior.”

Her turn to be glared at. She smirked back at him playfully, trying to cheer him up, but he just looked away.

“What kind of idiot child forgets his own name, anyway?” Nayan was muttering.

 _I can hear what you’re saying. I’m not old, lady._ “An idiot child that’s passed out twice within a couple of hours would be a pretty good guess, don’t you think?”

She was about to keep going before Jiji piped up again, voice weak and frail. “No, she’s right, Qí. That was stupid.”

Nayan nodded sagely. “You ought to learn to keep your mouth shut around these parts, boy. The Si Wong is not kind to the unprepared.”

“What makes you think we’ll be travelling the Si Wong?”

Nayan rolled her eyes and straightened up, sending the water splashing back into the pot. “Look, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling, but I know a pair of deserters when I see them. That’s the way all deserters go, across the dunes. If the airships don’t pick them up, the sand swallows them, but they still try. Apparently there’s some magic safe haven down south they all aim for.” She brushed her hands off decisively, “You can stay here the night, since you’re already my problem, whether I like it or not. But tomorrow, you should cleanse yourselves at the shrine and be on your way. I don’t know what you’ve done to get out of Jin Nuo alive, but you’ll both attract dark spirits if you don’t make amends.”

 _Well. Now we’re on even ground_. She pushed herself up and bowed, “Thank you for your kindness.”

The curt nod she got in return was worth all the trouble. Jiji was asleep before Nayan had finished packing up, a soft, even slumber that was nothing like the limpness of unconsciousness. Qí moved to lay down on the rug by the fire, still thinking. _We need a better cover story. This wasn’t a pleasant experience._

Sleep was a long time coming, but a relief when it reached her.

 

* * *

 

The air was still and breathless as he moved through the narrow chasm, the dusty red rocks towering over his head towards the narrow strip of blue sky above. The sandy floor was almost perpetually in shadow, cool and soft beneath his feet. The confined walls squeezed at his chest at points, his newly healed ribs grumbling in protest. Still, he didn’t bend the rock. Nayan had told him about the spirit guarding the shrine, warning that it sucked people who tried to change it into the cliff, engulfing them alive. After his dealings with the spirit world, he was in no way inclined to test the patience of a rock guardian. He wished Qí was here. But she’d declined to come, waiting back with Guanyin, her arms crossed in that stubborn way of hers. “If I cleansed after every fight, Jiji, I’d have no skin left. Spirits don’t care about human battles, anyway.”

_I wish I could believe that. But you didn’t kill anyone, Qí._

It took about ten minutes of winding passages to finally reach the clearing she’d described, almost perfectly circular and surrounded by sheer ten meter cliffs. The shrine itself was carved into the walls of the opening, ornate pillars watching over the hollowed-out rooms beyond. Statues of Oma and Shu stood in front of each pillar, while the gentle figure of the Great Spirit Guanyin looked down on him from above the entrance, sitting on the characters of the Zhōng Kuí; _soul to soul, dust to dust._

He took off his shoes and knelt before the steps for the Gàn Mùyù, burying his hands in the sand and taking a deep breath before washing it over his face, over his forearms up to the elbow, and finally his feet up to the ankles. It felt good to be covered in raw earth again, not just metal. He repeated the rite, cleansing himself, trying to scrub the memory of the needles off his hands, of the blood-

-he was panicking, hyperventilating and shaking. He wanted to wrap himself in a blanket of earth, to disappear into the ground and never come back up, never have to use his aching ribs again-

_I wish I had someone to talk to, he thought. I wish Mom was here._

The realisation hit him in the gut for the millionth time. _We’re really gone. I’m never gonna see her again._

It took about fifteen minutes to stop freaking out. Qí would be getting impatient, he knew. He took a shuddering breath and pushed himself up, moving into the shrine with shaky hands, left foot first. It was only the third time he’d been in a shrine, and the first time alone; one time when he was very young (he only remembered the gentle hands of the priest and his kindly smile), and once when he’d been on a trip with Mom- _Mom_ \- in the western territories. But that had been a big temple, staffed by people who’d told him what he needed to do when he felt lost.

_Guanyin is the merciful. She helps those in need._

He stopped just inside the entrance and bowed, paying respects before moving to the middle of the room and kneeling before the statue of Guanyin sitting against the back wall. The floor was carved with a trapezoid, the base curling into itself; the ancient symbol of Earth. He prostrated himself on the marble, forehead pressed against the polished rock. “Gracious Guanyin. I know I’ve done wrong. I have drawn innocent blood. I feel so lost.” He swallowed back tears again, his throat sore, “Please, show me where to go.”

He looked up at the statue, trying to find some glimmer of hope in the cold stone eyes. The wind blew into the room hollowly, sprinkling sand over the smooth stone floor. He felt it brush over the backs of his hands, staring down at them quietly; but no answer came. His stomach hurt, and suddenly he was choking on sobs, shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

 

The shrine echoed empty around him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lou: We've included some Middle-Eastern and Buddhist influences into the spirituality of our interpretation of the Avatar universe, which show up a bit in Jiji's scene. The Gàn Mùyù is a loose pinyin translation of the tradition of dry ablution in Islam and Central Asian / African influences, and the particular movements Jiji practices in the shrine are derived from proper conduct in both Islamic mosques and Buddhist temples. As for the Zhōng Kui, they'll show up again later. There's going to be a lot more of this infusion of other traditions with the Avatar version in the future :)  
> Hope you're all enjoying so far!


	8. Old Friends

Jiji was gone.

Honjo hunched over his school desk, trying his best to ignore the empty spot beside him as he drew in the margins of his workbook. He was smart enough not to ask questions, but that didn’t stop him from chewing on the end of his pencil anxiously. _What the hell happened, Jiji? Where did you go? And why didn’t you take me with you?_

Not that he wanted to get involved with that kind of violence. But three days of history lectures without someone to mess around with were starting to wear him down, and he could bet on his lucky jade that Jiji would be having adventures. _Not the way I’d do it. But they got out._ It was interesting that no-one had even mentioned Qí. After all, she must have done most of the damage. He doubted Jiji could lift a train, and anyone looking out the east side of a tower window that morning could see the wreck of the locomotive out at the docks. There were rumours flying left, right and centre, fanatical stories of dark spirits and explosions and fire nation terrorists… _I just want to know why, honestly._ Adventures set aside, Jiji had it all- a top-class bending Sifu, the fancy house on the hill, he was the son of the Great Uniter herself, for Guanyin’s sake! Why the hell would he run? What could possibly have driven him to that level of insanity?-

“Honjo! Pay attention!”

 _Ugh._ “Apologies, Sifu Horikoshi.” The grey-haired teacher considered him for a few moments before turning back to the board and marking きろ　ほんじょ in the corner. “See me after class, Master Kiro.”

Honjo grumbled under his breath and went back to his math, running through a set of calculations for a machine he was drawing. _Who even cares about history class, anyway? All these people are dead. The future is much more interesting._

He eyed the smooth silver lines he’d sketched. Very interesting indeed.

 

* * *

 

It felt too early to be awake. Asami opened her eyes slowly and felt the breeze on her cheek, finding herself surrounded by tall, swaying moonflowers as tall as her chest. The sky was still dark, but as unfamiliar as this place was, she felt safe; everything was touched gently by the light of the moon, shining like polished silver, leaving her feeling light and warm amidst the weightless white flowers. The summery air folded around her like cozy origami, enveloping her and drawing her out into the field. She felt very short for some reason, but far happier than she’d been in a very long time, reaching out her fingers to touch the moonflowers and blinking with surprise when they began to glow. _They’re so pretty!_

“ ‘sami!”

She looked around to see a small, grinning figure running towards her through the field, leaving a trail of light behind her familiar face. “Korra!” She barely got a second to react before she was barreling into her, tiny arms reaching around her, barely managing- _wait_. Asami pulled back suddenly, staring at her hands and squeaking with alarm, “I’m _tiny_!”

Korra giggled, the moonflowers gleaming like lanterns. “We both are, silly! Look!” She held out her arms, her tiny belly poking out from under her shirt. She looked barely four, chubby-cheeked and grinning mischieviously.

 _This is a dream. It has to be_. A harsh voice spoke from the back of her head, ripping her down from her elation. She felt cold. “You’re dead.”

The grin faded from Korra’s face as she dropped her arms down again, shifting her foot in the grass, “Kinda, yeah.”

“No.” _Dream or not, she doesn’t get away with this_. “Not ‘kinda’. You’re _dead_ , Korra. You are.” Her chest hurt, and the moonflowers were turning dark again.

Korra was shaking her head. “Not here I’m not. This is the spirit world, ‘sami. I’m a spirit.”

“Huh?”

It made sense, in a way. But she didn’t care. “You’re dead! You’re dead!” She stomped her foot, feeling waves building up in her chest like a tsunami. “You’re not a spirit! You’re dead!” She curled up in the grass, the tsunami surging up her throat and threatening to spill out her eyes. “You’ve been dead _so long_.”

Korra hesitated, moving over cautiously before kneeling down beside her, “ ‘t’s okay, ‘sami. I’m here now.”

The tsunami hit, crashing over as Asami launched herself at her, grabbing and pulling at her hair, “You left me behind!”

“Ow, _ow! Asami, you’re hurting me!_ ”

“You h-hurt _me_ for eleven years!”

Another voice joined the fray, and suddenly careful hands were scooping each of them up, holding them apart. “Children, children, what is all this noise? It does no good to fight like this between friends.”

Korra looked up at the old man gratefully, rubbing her head, “ ‘sami pulled my hair.”

“You _died!_ ”

Iroh smiled good-naturedly, letting Korra climb up to sit on his shoulders and holding Asami gently. “It seems you two have a lot to discuss, but perhaps it is best done somewhere you won’t crush the moonflowers, hmm? Let’s go talk this through over a nice cup of tea.”

Asami wiped her running nose on her sleeve, nodding silently as Iroh ambled off through the flowers. He felt warm, and cozy, like Dad before- before all the bad stuff happened.

Iroh carried them both overs the hills to his tea shop, Korra's legs swinging against his shoulders; his long, swaying gait lulled Asami into a fragile calm as he padded through the grass. The tea shop glowed with gentle gold light, hung with lanterns and chimes that filled the air with lightness, like the smell of applecherry blossoms. He set them down on the steps lightly, cracking his back absently as he straightened up, “What kind of tea would you like, Asami?”

“Ginseng, please.”

His eyes crinkled at the edges and he winked at Korra, “She’s a wise one. Good choice. Go in and find a table.” He moved off towards the kitchens, humming cheerily to himself.

Asami bowed and removed her shoes, moving inside quietly and blinking with astonishment at the plethora of guests seated throughout the teashop. “Well don’t stare.” Korra trundled in behind her, little brown toes wiggling on the tatami floor as she pulled on a pair of slippers. “They’re only spirits.”

_Spirits, indeed._

It was a surreal panorama, filled with solidified hallucinations much larger than life; by the window, a slender shadow-figure with stark white antlers, deep in negotiation with a formless swarm of crimson wasps; a tiny conference of brightly-coloured nymphs arguing over tiny cups of tea; a large round man sat at a table near the counter, dressed resplendently in deep emerald greens and gold, his tea poured by a fox that watched him with a glint of cunning in its eye. In the corner by itself, a large golden tiger reclined; its tail swayed hypnotically, hissing with jaded snake’s eyes set above a pair of wicked fangs. _These aren’t like the spirits of Republic City, like_ any _spirits I’ve seen in the human world._

“Here, ‘sami.” Korra passed her a pair of slippers before padding over to a table by the far window, kneeling down and looking after her expectantly.

The eyes of the room seemed to follow her as she pushed her feet into the slippers and moved over to Korra, the hairs on the nape of her neck standing on end. She sat down opposite Korra, looking at the strangely commonplace tea set on the table- it seemed normal, almost too normal, in the midst of all these spooky figures.

“Why are they staring?”

Korra seemed unfazed, holding out a menu for her to read, “You’re not a proper spirit. You’re a dream walker.”

She took it absently, not really concentrating on the words, “So this _is_ a dream?”

“More like a guided meditation.” The teacups rattled a little as Iroh sat the tray down on the table gently, silk robes whispering over the floor as he sat down, “Deep sleep allows us to guide you here.”

“So... what am doing here, Uncle? I’ve never been to the spirit world before.”

He shook his head, letting the tea steep, “It is not my place to say. I feel that it would be best Korra explained to you.”

“Oh yeah! ‘Sami, you’re not going to believe it! The new Avatar’s a boy!”

“But Avatar Aang was a boy.”

Korra grinned mischieviously, “No dumb dumb, I meant, he’s an Earth Kingdom Avatar. A _boy_ one. We set it up to trick Kuvira.”

“Who’s we? How did you do that?” She paused, looking at her hands, wide-eyed, “Why am I tiny?!”

Iroh chuckled and poured them each a cup of tea once it was brewed, “Children believe much more easily, Miss Sato. It’s simpler to suspend your disbelief at this conversation if you are seeing it through a child’s eyes. Makes it easier to tether you to this world, for a time.”

She stared at him for a few moments, “I have no idea what you’re saying.”

“ ‘Sami, stop being silly. Uncle just told you. You’re clever, I mean who else would’ve created those big machine bird things? You gotta understand.”

“In dreams, our spirits float like balloons. When we are awake, they are tethered to the human world like one would tie it to a tree; just as you are tied here, now. You do not belong in this world, so you cannot stay here long; or you will be lost to the great wind. But for now, the storm is calmed, and we must take advantage of this opportunity.”

Asami sipped her tea quietly, wincing when she burnt her tongue, “Ow! This tea is too hot, Uncle.”

“That’s ‘cause it’s tea, silly.” Korra stuck her tongue out. “Anyway, me ‘n the earth spirits made the new Avatar a boy so Kuvira won’t find him.”

“Did it work?”

She giggled, “She adopted him! She doesn’t know he’s the Avatar.”

“Korra! She'll kill him! She killed _you_!” Tears started to well up in her eyes. “And Mako. And Bolin. And Tenzin. You’re all dead!”

Scrambling around the table to her, Korra cupped her hands around her cheeks. “I’m sorry! Please stop crying!” She squeezed her tightly, hugging her face, “They’re all ok. It’s kinda hard to explain where they are, but they miss you; _I_ miss you. And Pema, and Lin, and Zhu Li and Varrick. All of you.”

Asami sniffled a little, “I miss you too.”

Then Korra was at face height again, kneeling beside her, “I know you’re sad. But we need your help. I have something important to tell you, _really really_ important.”

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, nose running with snot, “Wha’?”

Iroh sipped his tea quietly, “Jianyu’s headed to Kyoshi, to the White Lotus.”

“So you lot need t’ meet him there. He needs your help.”

“How do I get there?”

“I believe my nephew can help. He does what is right in his heart, and I believe this is no different.” He sat his teacup down, “I believe this will have to be enough talking for today. But you _must_ make it to Kyoshi Island as soon as you can.”

“I’ll do my best, Uncle.” She moved to pick up her own cup and blinked as her hand passed straight through it, starting to panic, “Why am I disappearing?!”

“You’re starting to wake up. But don’t worry, Uncle and I are watching over you all. We’ll be with you every step of the way.” She paused and smiled, “I’ll see you again soon.”

Everything went white.

 

* * *

 

The morning fog felt like a dream. Pema curled around her mug of tea as she watched the sun slowly turn the air candescent, lifting the mist up from the echoing depths of the canyon. She was alright, really; it had been a long time since she had last woken up choking, the sound of a city burning down crashing in her ears. The night patrollers were coming in and changing with the dawn crews, moving to change out of their dirty clothes. They’d need breakfast, and she’d go and help the acolytes in the kitchen soon enough, but early in the morning she just enjoyed having a quiet moment to herself.

 _...or not_. She sighed inwardly as she heard footsteps approaching. There wasn’t any reason for someone to be in the hanging gardens but to be looking for her. She loved the Western Air Temple and all, but it was so hard to find a quiet spot to herself; especially with the remaining members of the Air Nation zooming around on their gliders all day.

“I brought you more tea.”

Ah, Lin. The former police chief had never quite shaken the habit of rising early, despite the loose schedule in the temple. She shifted over in her seat to make room for her, holding out her cup, “Thank you.”

Lin refilled her cup before pouring her own, setting the kettle down on the stone floor and sitting beside her. Pema didn’t question why she was down here. She was pretty reserved nowadays, when she wasn’t training new recruits or directing retrieval missions for escaping deserters. They hadn’t talked much before Republic City went up in flames, but all of the leftover bitterness from relationship spats was behind them, now; the silence they kept towards each other here was more out of mutual understanding, of having no words of comfort that hadn’t already been said. Lin wasn’t one for dragging up painful memories, and she was glad of that.

_I still have Rohan. More than can be said for Lin._

The Air Nation was in tatters, true, but it still clung on by the fingertips. The White Lotus had given them the bending scrolls from their archives; though no substitute for a master, it kept the airbenders they had on their toes. There were still plenty of air acolytes who’d evacuated Air Temple Island that day, who helped keep the culture alive, and the temple maintained. She still had her son, and her adoptive nation. Lin hadn’t been so lucky. The only other Beifong who hadn’t been in the destroyed factory was Toph, and no-one had seen her in years; presumed dead, or captured. She’d been living in Earth Empire territory, after all, and it was highly unlikely that Kuvira would let her sit as an idle threat. So Lin was the last Beifong, and an enemy of her native country. It had been a cruel irony to swallow, remembering the sacrifice she had made years ago defending Pema’s family against Amon. Impossible to return the favour, now.

They’d both lost enough to last them a few lifetimes.

She felt a weight settling on her shoulders and shrugged it off, sipping her tea. _All things are transient, like the wind. No point worrying about the past unless it will help you change the future._

“Do you want some help in the kitchen?”

She shrugged, “Most of it was done last night, but you can help serve up if you want. The night crew is less likely to argue if you’re there.”

A snort answered. “They shouldn’t argue if they’re being fed.”

“Maybe not, but they’re tired and stressed.”

“Aren’t we all, nowadays.”

She nodded quietly and sipped her tea as Lin fell back into silence. The fog cleared enough to see the sky above the lip of the canyon, scattered clouds like freckles lit up in glowing oranges and peach pinks. It was going to be a lovely day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lou: We've taken a bit of a break from Jiji this chapter to catch up with some of the others :) Yes, Rohan is an airbender in this fic, following Katara's intuition. Pema has a handful looking after the Air Nation. Some of the new Air Nation who were turned into air benders after Harmonic Convergence survived the battle of Republic City, so hope is not all lost for air bending. And a new master might come from a surprising place.  
> There will be more of Honjo as well. All of the players are starting to take their places.  
> Thank you all for your reviews and bookmarks and comments and everything else! It means so much to us. We hope you're still enjoying it! :)


	9. Impacts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Reasonably graphic imagery of character deaths, mentioned in passing.  
> We're so sorry this is nearly a week late! Life got in the way, unfortunately. We hope you like the chapter ^_^

It was going to be an awful day.

 _The Si Wong isn’t exactly renowned for its temperate climate_ , Qí thought sarcastically as she steered the beaten-up airship south by southwest. The needle of the fuel gauge was dipping dangerously into the red as they soared over the unending dunes of copper-red sand below, searching for the Misty Palms Oasis. _Hopefully we don't end up walking far_. She could feel the sun burning her skin even through the airship windows, heating her metal suit until it hurt to touch. It was the least of her problems. The healer had been good, but a minimal fix, just enough to reel them back from the edge of disaster. Jiji's ribs were still bruised grey and blue like threatening storm clouds, but that was better than threatening a punctured lung.

She could hear Guanyin’s snuffling in the mess room, but didn’t look back. No doubt the kid was trying to forget why they were running in the first place. He hadn’t been taking it all that well.

_He’s just a kid, Avatar or not._

Not her problem right now. The search parties would be hunting them down soon enough, and they needed to ditch the limping ship. She figured it would take about two days for Kuvira to deal with the crippled Jin Nuo fleet, and organise enough resources to get her expedition vehicles regeared for a chase. With one day down, they didn’t have time to spare. The countryside would be crawling with sentries on high alert like swarms of angry ants. _I still have about a hundred yuans and plenty of food. We can do this._

The airship started beeping.

_Or, maybe not._

“We’re out of fuel!” She called over her shoulder, starting the landing sequence. _Where the hell is this desert town?_ The ship keeled over slowly like a drunk platypus bear, tilting towards the shimmering dunes, steadily gaining speed. Straining, she bent the flaps out to slow them as much as possible, sending the ship skimming across the top of the dunes before grabbing the pack of supplies and pulling herself up the skewed deck, feet digging into the metal floor. Jiji was trying to bend a hole in the wall of the mess room, clinging unsteadily to Guanyin as the airship shook around them. She pushed herself over and dug her fingers in, peeling the metal back to leave a howling tear in the wall. “OUT!”

Jiji hesitated, clinging to the wall as he gazed down at the dunes flashing past below. _I don’t have time for this_. She shoved him out and jumped after, hitting the hot sand after a couple of seconds and rolling, the force of the impact knocking the air out of her lungs and leaving her wheezing, teeth full of gritty sand. There was a _whump_ , and the sky went dark for a moment as Guanyin nearly landed on top of her, a big ball of glossy fur grunting in disapproval as he ambled over to where Jiji had face planted in the dunes. She sat up slowly and caught her breath, watching the crumpled airship career into the side of a massive dune, throwing up sand and flames like roaring confetti.

She spat the sand out of her mouth. _What a mess_. The smell of smoke and burning oil wafted over in the scorching heat, filling her mouth with the taste of metal. She picked herself up slowly, metal-clad feet slipping in the sand like boiling hot ice. _I’m going to need to change._

Jiji seemed to be okay; his knuckles white as he clung to the snuffling mountain of fur nudging at him. Hand shading her eyes, she scanned the horizon, searching for _anything_ more than just dunes- the desert stretched out before her like the sea, just as endless, just as desolate. She retrieved the bag of supplies, frowning at the trail of dark sand rapidly drying up where one of the water flasks had split.

“We need to head west,” she straightened her back, looking up to see where the sun was in the sky, “and we’ll need to change into lighter clothes. There’s a long march ahead.”

 

* * *

 

“WHAT THE ZHU LI IS THAT?!”

The Zhu Li in question slapped his wrist lightly. “Varrick!”

“What? There’s a giant flamey rat thing on her shoulder!”

She looked up with an unimpressed shrug, “Who cares? Don’t cuss around Mingzhu.”

Varrick pouted petulantly and went back to brushing his daughter’s hair, running his fingers through gently to check for knots before combing them out carefully.

Asami wiped the rheum from her eyes, the room still fuzzy in front of her. She barely registered Varrick’s chattering, moving to boil some water for tea when suddenly Zhu Li was at her side, peering intently at her through moon-shaped spectacles. “Asami.”

She shook herself, “I- huh? Oh, sorry, Zhu Li. Didn’t see you there.” A stifled yawn, “What’s wrong?”

“Your shoulder is on fire.”

“I, um. Thanks?”

That look. Asami sighed. “Sorry, I’m still asleep. Was that not a compliment?”

“Your shoulder is _literally_ on fire, ‘sami.”

She blinked a little and looked at her shoulder and, sure enough, there it was, a small flame curled up on her shoulder and- well, _looking_ at her. _At least it’s not burning me_. She turned back to Zhu Li, deadly serious, “I’ve gone mad.”

“Then we’re all bleedin’ mad, aren’t we?!” Varrick was helping Mingzhu put ribbons in her hair, tying colourful bows in dark brown curls as the little girl sat on his lap. “But there’s definitely _something_ on your shoulder.”

Asami didn’t really want to look. She knew what this meant. The teapot was whistling behind her, an incessant squeal, building and building as she felt the pressure in her chest welling up, thrashing in her chest like a wounded beast. Varrick and Zhu Li were looking at her, concern etched into their brows. Time moved sluggishly, like deep, thick mud. “I wasn’t dreaming.”

She registered vaguely that Zhu Li was holding onto her elbow, keeping her from sinking to the floor. “Asami! You’re pale as death, what’s wrong?”

“It wasn’t a dream.” She wanted nothing more to sink through the floorboards and into the Earth. “I saw Korra last night. There’s a new Avatar.”

The silence lasted a millenia. Zhu Li was quiet, her face a confusion of expression- but it wasn’t her that Asami was looking at. _He looks ill._  Varrick’s arms had curled around Mingzhu subconsciously, protective and grim like a shrine overshadowing a grave. When he spoke, his voice was clipped and low, with a calculated preciseness that barely kept it from wavering.

“What exactly does she want us to do about that?”

“He’s headed to Kyoshi, she wants us to meet him there.” Her chest felt tight. It had taken so long to forget the whole mess, and it was all swimming up before her eyes- Korra’s blood on her hands, the bubbling sound of Mako’s crushed lungs, Bolin’s beautiful, empty green eyes… she shook herself. _One day_.

“Well then I guess we’d better get packing! If Korra wants us to help, then help we will.” The determined enthusiasm in Zhu Li’s voice made her sick to the stomach. She had been so _hurt_ \- bleeding, so much- her head a fragile eggshell. She never really remembered that day, but Asami did; she remembered Varrick desperately trying to keep his hands from shaking as he held together Zhu Li’s skull, the bodies of their friends strewn about like broken dolls, the terrifying growl in Lin’s voice as she told them, they’re coming, we need to get you out of here, leave the rest, there’s nothing we can do-

“We’re not going.” Varrick was eyeing the dull white scar that ran in a jagged line through his wife’s hair, jaw set. “I don’t give a damn what Korra wants. We’re not stepping into that mess again.”

The- thing- on Asami’s shoulder growled, the flame on the stove flaring up suddenly. Zhu Li sighed. “We have to help, Varrick. Korra’s asking.”

“I just said, I don’t care.” His arms had completely encircled Mingzhu now, shielding her. “We’re not going.”

“I’ll go.” Asami took a deep breath, forcing her anxieties down and out of her throat. _I am going to regret this_. “I’ll go to Kyoshi. Then, if it’s safe, I’ll let you two know.”

Varrick thought about it for a moment before he nodded gravely in approval, but Zhu Li was shaking her head. “You can’t go alone! What if you get hurt, or captured? You’ll have to go through Earth Empire territory!”

As Asami took the kettle off the stove and poured herself a cup of tea, the small, nimble creature scampered down her arm and perched on her wrist. _He’s completely weightless_. “I won’t be alone.” She smiled as she looked back at the others. The fiery spirit of Pabu licked her hand happily. “Korra’s watching over me.”

 

* * *

 

Kuvira threw open the doors of her airship’s situation room, ignoring the crash of the metal handles as they punched through the plaster walls behind her. Several of her closest officers were gathered around the table, sleep-deprived and unnerved like birds startled from their nest. The metallic _click_ of her boots against the floor kept them wincing with anticipation at every stride.

“What news have we got?! General Tso, your report!”

The general in question hurriedly stopped rubbing the rheum out of her eyes to blink owlishly at the paper in front of her. “Debris at the docks is being cleared away, repairs are set to begin in two days. In the meantime, supplies are being shipped by long-distance rail, with armed escorts in case the situation encourages bandits.”

“It will not, or they will pay.” She leaned on the table, chewing the situation over. “No doubt you are all wondering why you have been kept up to this inconvenient our. I also do not doubt that you have heard the rumours concerning the part of my son and his metalbending teacher in this mess.” She scanned the room, catching the eye of every officer, holding their attention. She could see them squirming uncomfortably, trying to know what they were supposed to think. “These rumours are true. At this point in time, Sergeant Qí is wanted for the kidnapping of my son, for the assault of several of her fellow officers, and for the significant amount of damage done to government property down at the docks. Before anyone asks, yes, she was the one who destroyed the airships. She also _threw a train at her comrades in arms_.” A long pause, as she let the words sink in. A few scoffs and murmurs ran like ripples through the room.  “ _I’m sure_ I do not need to convince any of you of the danger she poses as a fugitive. Her motives are as yet unknown, and until her capture she is to be considered a deserter, traitor and enemy of the state. Am I clear? Any associations or relations anyone has had with her in the past are, from this point forward, to be considered null and void. Any questions?”

“Begging your pardon, ma’am.” That cocky young Colonel Bai was smirking sceptically, arms crossed his chest as though _he_ were lecturing _her_. “No-one is strong enough to lift a train by themselves. That's ludicrous; it takes a team of benders, at least seven or eight. You must be mistaken.”

She resisted the urge to strangle him with his own epaulettes. “Have you ever met Sergeant Qí, Colonel?”

“Can’t say I have. I went to officer school, skipped the ranks.”

 _I knew that officer’s academy was a bad idea. Arrogant idiot._  “Sergeant Qí is not one of ‘the ranks’, and has not been for a very long time. She has been trained beyond the reach of all normal metalbending training given to our officers, and could cut you open before you even knew she was there. Her position existed outside the traditional forces, within my personal employ, for many reasons.” She rolled her shoulders back, “I don’t know what part of officer training gave you the perception that only fighting skill determines rank, but I suggest you forget it immediately. Or you will find very soon that someone like Qí will rip you to shreds.”

“Still, ma’am, it’s a _train_.”

She gritted her teeth. “If you have any further doubts, you are welcome to go to the hospital and ask Captain Guowei or Second Lieutenant Yan yourself. Otherwise, I suggest you _hold your tongue_ before I send you after them.”

Silence filled the room like a thick, viscous syrup. She could almost hear them sweating. “Qí’s whereabouts are currently unknown, but it is suspected she is in the south-east, in the region of the Si Wong Desert. The airship she used to escape has been spotted by sentries crossing over the mountains of the desert edge, with no further sightings. I will be leaving in the morning with a full retrieval team- the rest of you are to continue in your duties in your normal capacities, and to ensure that no-one else gets any ideas about deserting. Are their any _intelligent_ questions?”

A small, meek hand presented itself towards the back of the room. “What is it, Major?”

The slight, green-clad young woman stood up so as to be heard better, “Do we know the Sergeant’s motives, ma’am?”

“We do not, currently.” _Remember that face. She’s got a good head on her shoulders_. “As far as we know, this crime has been committed in the interests of a personal motive of Qí’s, and is not linked to the activities of any other enemy organisation at this time.” The Major bowed and sat down, and Kuvira folded her arms behind her back, considering them all critically, “For those who have been selected to join the retrieval mission, we have one simple objective- track down Qí, and retrieve Jianyu. We leave at dawn. Dismissed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lou: Sorry this is so late! I've been moving apartments, so I've had no wifi to work with, unfortunately :/ Hope you like this chapter, thank you all so much for reading!  
> (Kuvira ain't havin' none of your shit, Bai)
> 
> Pat: we’d love to get a bit of feedback from u guys so please don’t be afraid to comment, we don’t bite :) also updates may slow down a little as life is gettin in the way...again… #deep


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